


Harvest Festival

by Eustacia Vye (eustaciavye)



Series: The Serpent's Skin [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eustaciavye/pseuds/Eustacia%20Vye
Summary: Loki experiencing her first Harvest Festival on Metian.





	Harvest Festival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AsterRoc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsterRoc/gifts).



> This was written for [my friend Asterroc,](http://asterroc.tumblr.com) who had podficced [Ouroboros](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15539046) as part of PodTogether 2018. She'd asked for a holiday themed story, which I managed to write a while back but actually forgot about until going through Google Docs because I was working on Yuletide stories. Oops! But it works out better now, since we're in holiday season anyway. :)

It was the first full harvest after Loki had started casting on the Hies lands. It wasn't odd for an advisor to be in the fields, or to want closer looks within the farming ring. Some Houses never bothered to check their fields, giving overseers and staff free run. Others were stricter to work for, and the field hands chafed under the strict rules and tightly watched fields. The Hies family had traditionally been somewhere in the middle, with reasonable rules for staff to follow and an advisor that periodically stopped by for impromptu visits to inspect the property. That Loki had resumed the practice was seen as a promising sign.

Staff was thin these days, with few hired hands working the fields. There hadn't been money to pay in advance for some hands, but there were a few families that had been working the fields for so long that they simply stayed on out of loyalty and promises for future pay out of a successful harvest. Some of these hands had approached Loki during her rounds, cheerfully greeting her and expressing their wishes for a return to their former glory.

Loki had sighed a lot with those trips, and wandered through the fields. It felt like cheating, almost, corrupting the _spá_ of the land so that the crops would be bountiful despite the sparse care. Weeds were plentiful and difficult to extract -- Loki had grasped one just to see what made the task so hard to do and got five needle marks in her palm for her troubles. The weeds had fine hairs on them, sharp as needles, and Loki suspected that only spelled dragon hide would be able to truly stop injuries. The field workers continued the old crop rotations that had been set down by Faelan's great-great-great-great-grandfather, with the belief that it was good and proper and shouldn't be changed. But Loki saw that more fertilizers had to be added, more labor was required to pull the weeds, and more water had to be carried to each field in order to have any viable crop.

She hadn't been allowed to put in irrigation pipes, even overground, because the field hands all believed it would disrupt the growing crops. One field was all tourka grains, tall and straight and needing a ridiculous amount of care to grow. Their height at least meant the weeds were few and far between. Another field contained the sion tubers that fed animals raised by other Houses, and those low growing plants needed so much weed pulling attention. The field of letis, a reedy plant that was another kind of native grain, was shorter than tourka and thus allowed more weed growth. It wasn't much to alter the _spá_ for the land and plants, making them more bountiful. But it still felt like cheating, a delay tactic maybe, but Loki didn't feel entirely comfortable with these magicks. It wasn't natural, like she was forcing her talents against a current. Possible, but difficult and awkward.

And she didn't want to harm Faelan in any way, not when he was essentially the only family she could claim in the entire galaxy.

Loki worried and tried scrying spells, and didn't know how else but to check on everything she had done. Faelan didn't understand the magic and thought it was simple. Perhaps he was right and Loki was worrying for nothing, but she couldn't help it. She was the only magic user in all of Metian, there was no getting additional help, and this was too important to Loki.

Maybe it would have been better to start on the land outside of the outermost ring of Metian. No one cared about that land, and treated it like a death sentence to be exiled there, so any failures generated on that land would have been acceptable. No one returned from crossing the gates, however, so Loki couldn't simply pass back and forth.

The worry for the fields was for nothing, at least. The yield was higher than expected, and all of it looked natural and ready to be sold. The families of field hands that had remained were elated, and took to clearing out the husks to set up for the next rotation in crops.

Metian didn't really have weather variation other than the day to day sun/rain/cloud changes. There were no seasons, just an overall warmth that led to a prosperous crop growth with only the mildest of cheats in the _spá._

Because of the relative bounty, Faelan happily decided to leave the Hies family estate and participate in the citywide festival that would announce the change of the calendar quadrant. The great cathedral was within the Second Ring of Metian, and this was one of the few times ordinary folk from the outer rings could come into these hallowed halls. They usually had services in their local temples, or even the field altars, for those unable to travel for the Holy Service. The Harvest Festival marked the quadrants of the Metian calendar and the transitions between the Times of the Gods.

Currently, they were moving from Brother Allni to the Lover, the unnamed Courtesan to the highest and first of the gods, the mother to Brother Allni and Sister Jura. She was technically worshipped twice over, once as the Lover and once again as half of the Holy Parents along with the High God Kallas. The other gods covered individual minor aspects of life, and had holy days within the calendar, but didn't get an entire calendar quadrant. Transferring from the quadrant of the Lover to that of the Holy Parents marked the Year Turning as well.

The great cathedral was packed with people from all walks of life. Most of the Houses had balconies arrayed above the High Priest's podium, with the highest of the Houses closest to the mural on the ceiling. Multiple massive columns with elaborate carvings held up the balconies above the massive, open seating area in the main sanctuary of the temple. Each pew was made of a light gray quartz with pink veins, with dark blue cushions for the people to sit on for comfort. Enough people had showed up that they were standing in the aisles and in the back of the sanctuary, eager to hear the ceremony that opened the Harvest Festival.

"An age ago, the gods came to this world and carved an expanse out of the devastating wilderness," the High Priest began at the opening services to the Harvest Festival. "Our fine city of Metian was formed in this oasis, the high Outer Walls created to keep the wild at bay and our people safe. The Great Houses that founded our city worked to keep it safe in the manner of the gods' desires. The peace and prosperity of our people was a gift the gods gave them, and the Great Houses protected those unable to protect themselves. So our great world began."

"Hanem," the people intoned solemnly in the pause allowed.

"We mark our thanks for these gifts and prosperity with festivals, prayer, and love."

The High Priest paused as there was hooting and hollering in response to "love." Once the hubbub died down, he gave the assembled people a magnanimous smile. "So we honor the great gods and their creation, look for their signs, and do right by the gifts bestowed upon us."

"Hanem," the people said.

"Honor the Brother, he who counsels and protects, he who brings us together," the High Priest continued, raising his arms and sending the large, sweeping sleeves of his robes fluttering down to the floor. He was wearing a bright scarlet trimmed with white and silver, the beads and jewels worked into fabric reflecting the light from the thousands of scented candles in their sconces.

"Hanem," the people said in the pause.

Faelan looked over at Loki in their balcony and rolled his eyes; his brother had been the first Faelan, and had hardly protected his family.

The Hies balcony in the Great Cathedral wasn't as richly decorated as others, denoting its relative lack of wealth. It was still placed high enough to show that the Hies family was a Founder, present since the very creation of Metian. As such, the name still commanded respect, even if he couldn't afford an extravagant feast to invite all of the Ring residents.

The High Priest continued to speak of the harvest, the reaping of all sowed, the bounty that rewarded hard work. Loki tuned that out, knowing she had adjust the fate of the land. There was a bounty now, but wasn't all through physical labor. Did adding magic count as a kind of labor for the purpose of the festival?

Faelan would certainly think so.

Besides the pay promised, Faelan also paid for a smaller gathering in the farming ring for the families that had stayed loyal to his family name. Other than a short appearance, Faelan and Loki weren't planning to attend the entire event. Instead, they would stay at home and have a simple meal together. Neither wanted to have a large or expansive party surrounded by others or have to make polite conversation just to maintain appearances. Usually festival times were meant to be large social gatherings, whether ostentatious or not, a celebration of the blessings visited by the gods upon the house for the quadrant. 

The field celebration had large amounts of food on tables for the field hands in thanks for all of the gifts received from the gods. There was music and dancing, loud sounds and complex rhythms that usually weren't used in daily lives. The festival would last for three cycles, as the gods' influences changed places in the calendar quadrants.

Loki and Faelan retreated to the largely empty estate, all of the windows and halls quiet and dark. They ate a quiet dinner together, then sat beside each other and simply held hands. "This is my first Harvest Festival," Loki told Faelan with a hushed voice. "Maybe I should have gone to the field celebration for longer. The families know me now. I would be welcome there, I think. It would be a good showing."

"Even if they didn't know you so well, you would still be welcome," Faelan told her. "But I don't like attention and noise, and those celebrations would be nothing but that. I have little to share with the masses, and it would be humiliating for all to know that."

"You've had enough to share with me," Loki pointed out.

Faelan thought about that, then nodded and squeezed her hands tightly. "You are right. I could have denied you all but the most austere of places. I didn't have to take you on as Advisor. I was only asked to house you. I didn't have to consider you family."

Warmth and chill ran through Loki at the words, an almost ominous feeling. "As I consider you my family."

His smile was bright, adding to the warmth and driving away some of the chill running down Loki's spine. "So we use this as a learning opportunity. During the next festival, we can attend others' gatherings, maybe spend more time in our own."

"Even when you feel uncomfortable?"

"But you like it," Faelan said, shrugging. "You like to be seen, to be recognized for who you are what accomplishments you've made. I understand it, and I can bear and evening for you. It's only fair that you get your due."

Touched, Loki pulled Faelan into a tight hug. "My thanks, my friend."

Faelan's eyes were suspiciously shiny, as there was sincerity in Loki's voice. It had been so long since he had family he could trust, and the emotions were obviously overwhelming, especially given the time of year it was.

"Next quadrant, I promise. We'll do it Metian style," Faelan promised.

"I can't wait," Loki laughed, eyes already lighting up as she thought of the glittering halls of the sanctuary in the temple. "The Lover's parties are probably too much for you to handle, though," she added, head tilted slightly as she contemplated Faelan.

"Even louder and more raucous," Faelan agreed.

Loki squeezed his hands. "So thank you for the offer."

They sat in companionable silence, pleased with each other. Next quadrant would be different, with loud and showy celebrations, people and dancing and too much food. Loki couldn't imagine why Faelan would hate that aspect of it, but at least he would host and attend parties anyway. That would cement the rising prosperity and social standing of the Hies family, and it would give them a better reputation overall. Loki was looking forward to getting an even better regard within Metian, and seeing the lavish parties.

Only, the next quadrant's festivals never came for her. She was once again falling through the Void, losing herself.

The End


End file.
